One
by Kagetsuya
Summary: Charas: Seph, Cloud. Post-Colisseum. The game of Hide and Seek continues.


****

One  
Author: Kagetsuya  
**Character(s):** Sephiroth, Cloud (any content is solely the reader's viewpoint)  
**Muse(s):** Sepho, Iason "Raphael" Vossen (because he claims Sepho reminds him of Zia *shudder* and he loves to meddle in Zia's affairs so he also wanted a part in Sepho's and... meh.)  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. And I don't want 'em, no sirree, nope, especially not the Sepho. Renting, albeit of the unofficial sort, is fine with me.  
**Dedication:** For the Hika. Because K is transparent and Hika asked for it. And, since Sepho's not gonna leave K, she might as well take advantage of the practice.  
**Warnings:** convoluted and pointless, Sepho being pervy, slight language, unbeta-ed  
**Notes:** First KH fic. This is most likely a one-time thing. Outside of RPs, I don't usually go into the fandom. Oh, and I have a tendency to mix FF7 Cloud and Seph into their KH counterparts. Not that there's that much of a difference, but… yeah.  
**Summary:** Post-Colisseum. The game of Hide and Seek continues.

His sword really was not supposed to be used for chopping down undergrowth, but here Cloud was, hacking away at the greenery that blocked his path. Although, 'path' might not have been the right word, he walking into the deeply forested areas where one would not normally traverse. But that was not the point. He knew of the trails that crisscrossed the jungle, game trails, imprinted with the marks of passing animals, and paths of packed dirt that humans had made, easy to distinguish by trees that were cut down to make way. He did not take those existing trails not because he ran the risk of being noticed -- which he did not care about -- but because they tended to wind and bend, and taking them would make his journey longer.

That tingle in his wing grew stronger as he went on, sensation pooling in the sensitive junction where skin met wing. The connection he was following, flighty and unreliable most of the time, was stable. Its other end was in one place, not moving, With all the racket he was making, it should have been strange, but he knew the bond's stability for the baiting it was. Still, he followed it, stubborn and perhaps just a tiny bit annoyed that his bond-partner would taunt him so. He should have been used to it by now, he knew, for all the times that this happened. His bonded, however, had an uncanny sense of timing, and knew how long it would have to take between each incident to annoy Cloud with the game.

'A game I should not be playing,' he told himself, as he had done countless times before. 'A game I should refuse to take part in.'

But, ah, his mind argued, his bonded -- oh, how he _hated_ that word for the meanings that could be inferred from it, but he could find no other sufficient term to use -- would always find a way to bait him, a way to tease him, irritate him enough to set him on another chase. Not to mention that one surefire plan: taunting Cloud with the knowledge of what he sought.

'I'm doing this for _her_.'

He was arguing with nobody else. Or perhaps it was with himself. Or perhaps it was with the one he was connected to, the one who seemed to read his thoughts enough that Cloud suspected the nature of their connection was not the same on both ends. Or, as the other had mentioned once before, it was only that he knew not how to use the bond the ways he wished to, that there were aspects of the link he had yet to explore.

'Damn it all.'

The trees began to thin after a while, the undergrowth gradually getting sparse along with them. Soon, there was enough space that he could walk without having to use his sword to cut away something in his path. He did not sheath the sword, however, preferring to keep it out. He knew what awaited him at his destination, wherever that was. Why would he not, after all, when all of this had become routine after the first few times. Fight, chase, fight again -- that was the circle he was caught in.

The treeline came to an abrupt stop at a clearing, vaguely circular with a circumference of about half a mile. Here, the grass grew only ankle-deep, cut somewhat in half by a small, winding stream. It was an idyllic sort of place, the noon sun shining down without a cloud in the sky to block its light, the green of the grass complimenting the darker shade of the trees that bordered the meadow and the creepers that adorned the trees like garlands, the almost melodic gurgling of the stream countering the occasional bird call or animal cry.

The one thing that marred this image was the figure on a large rock beside the stream. The man sat cross-legged with his back to Cloud, the black of his coat making the waterfall of hair that cascaded down his back seem a shade closer to white instead of the silver it truly was. A single, ink black wing was folded lightly against his back, the tips of the primary feathers _just_ touching the ground. A sheathed sword, so long that it was almost absurd, lay in the grass, the hilt propped up against the rock. It looked as if he did not notice Cloud, seeming to be in some meditative state, relaxation in every line of his body.

Cloud tensed at the sight of the man, however, a shiver running along his own wing at being so close that the sense of the bond between them increased tenfold. This was his quarry, who, no matter how it seemed the opposite, was aware of his presence, who had probably been aware of it ever since he entered this world. He tightened the grip on his sword, forcing his anticipation, his anger, even that slight thrill of fear, out of his mind, training his thoughts solely on the figure that sat before him.

As if knowing every thought that ran through his mind then, the man chose that moment to turn around, unfolding long legs and standing. The long, black trenchcoat swirled about him, a sharp contrast to the bright colors of the meadow. The black wing stretched to its full span, then folded once more along his back as he relaxed it. The man flashed a smile that could have been termed 'beatific' had it not been for the mocking curves of the corners of his lips.

"Sephiroth."

An inclination of the head, slight almost to the point that one would not have noticed it had they not been focusing on his every movement. "Cloud. Fancy meeting you here."

The mercenary did not miss the fact that the silver-haired man had not picked up his sword. But he knew it 

was not out of an arrogance anyone who did not know him would have thought. It was mere confidence in skill and agility that, should he come to need it, Sephiroth would have the sword out of its sheath and in his hand within the space of a second.

So Cloud did not move, just stood there, sword at ready, glowing blue eyes watching for even the slightest indication that the other man would move. Except that Sephiroth, too, stayed where he was, body still as relaxed as it had been when Cloud came upon the clearing, expression one of faint disinterest.

"It's not worth fighting you."

Cloud could not stop his confusion and surprise at the sheer -- _randomness_ of that statement from showing, but he managed to limit it to the widening of his eyes. "What?"

The other raised an eyebrow at him, sitting down on the rock once more, looking bored. "A _child_ gave you a run for your money, Cloud. I don't think you're worth my time anymore."

Sephiroth flexed his wing before bringing it around his body and running a hand across the feathers. Cloud suppressed a shiver, sensation ghosting over his own wing in time with the other man's movements. This was the power that could still be held over him, the secret of the wings that made them almost mirror images when they faced each other, the secret of the connection that bound them together until one of them died. And even then, he was not sure it would be cut, not sure whether or not the bond was soul-deep, unbreakable, their fates were entwined no matter how many lives they lived.

Perhaps what angered him the most was that Sephiroth could manipulate this power as easily as he could swing his sword. And through this power, he could manipulate Cloud's life. Not through any sort of mental control, Cloud knew, much as it seemed like it, but the ability to send ideas, feelings, sensations, down this bond, things that inevitably shaped the blonde's actions, because they knew, the both of them, that no matter how many things were thrown at him, Cloud would not stop in his quest. Not until he had completed it, not until he had found what he was looking for.

'Or until I die,' the thought slithered into his mind.

The mere idea that the thought might not be his angered him enough to bring up his sword and take a fighting stance. As much as he knew that it was inevitable -- provided his suspicions were true, of course -- that did not mean that he liked other people mucking about with his head. _Especially_ not _this_ particular man.

"Get up and fight," he growled.

"Or what? You'll kill me?"

"Damn right!"

He flew towards the man, sword raised,a blur of black and red and silver. This power, at least, he knew, the energy that fueled his movements and reflexes, made them faster, far past the limit that any normal human being could achieve. The only reason he did not completely consider his wing a curse.

But he was not the only one with a wing, Sephiroth's smirk seemed to mock him, as the man kicked his sword into the air, caught it deftly, and used it to block Cloud's attack. Cloud used the force of the swords' impact to push himself back, flaring his wing and stretching the power connected with it to stop him in mid-air. His bonded's smile only widened at this, as the silver-haired man lowered his sword, looking as if he had not made any effort at all in deflecting what could have been a fatal blow. Of course, that did not rule out the possibility that he _did not_ make that effort. The power they were 'gifted' with, after all, did not seem to have any limits, and with his knowledge of it, he could tap into more of the potential than Cloud could.

"Why don't you fight?" the blonde demanded.

Sephiroth looked as if he needed to deliberate on his answer for a moment. "Because you're more amusing this way."

_Haven't you figured that out yet?_, his eyes seemed to say, ever condescending, arrogant, their green glow mocking even when he said nothing.

Cloud flew in again, this time employing a series of quick blows. "You dragged me out here," he snarled, each word punctuated with a swing of his sword. "Fight me!"

If anyone asked him, he could honestly say that he did not know what infuriated him so much. Sure, there was a liberal amount of teasing from the green-eyed man. Sure, there was that flexing of the power they both knew he did not know how to use, not with any efficiency and not with as much effectiveness as the other had. Sure, it might have been enough that Sephiroth _existed_ in the first place. But that was normal, that was what Cloud faced every time they met, every time they fought.

'Since when did I need a reason?'

All Cloud had to do was defeat him. Once. Even if that was the only time he would do so, then so be it. Maddening the man was, and mad to boot, maybe even evil, but he never lied and, absurdly, always kept his promises. Even when Sephiroth teased, it was not with petty words or on trivial matters. It was why his words could cut Cloud deeper than any injury he could deal with his sword, because everything he said was the truth, each syllable as calculated as every slice and slash, to make him feel angry or guilty or depressed or... well, it was usually one of those three. Anything else was too rare not to merit his remembering them.

Their agreement had been thus: he defeats Sephiroth, Sephiroth tells him what he wants to know.

It was so simple and yet so difficult. Equal of skill and power they were, but Sephiroth was more talented in the tactics area. That he could counter each of Cloud's moves was not skill alone, but also a little bit of anticipation. He had more or less said so himself, that Cloud was too predictable. Even when Cloud altered his fighting patterns, it did not take his bonded too long to figure them out. Not, of course, that he could not do the same with Sephiroth, but he was not as quick to catch everything, to analyze each and every move.

He might have been dead by now, after so many encounters between the two of them. By all rights, he probably _should have_ been dead. As it was, he knew the other man derived amusement from their meetings, from their battles. How and why, Cloud did not know, but there it was. On a good day, he did not care one whit about it, concentrating only on what he had to do. On a bad day, it annoyed him, almost to the point of distraction.

Cloud drew in for another strike, then saw that almost imperceptible widening of Sephiroth's smirk. It was a distraction, the kind he should have ignored but could not help otherwise, the fatal kind that would have had his lifeblood draining from him had Sephiroth's intentions been to kill. He hesitated for the smallest fraction of a second, almost unnoticable. Except that Sephiroth, being Sephiroth, had noticed and as he brought up his sword -- still _sheathed_, Cloud noticed, with no small amount of surprise and dismay -- to block the coming blow, he also reached out his free hand to grab a fistful of Cloud's shirt and pulled. The blonde had not been unbalanced much by his earlier pause, but it was enough of an opportunity for his opponent.

In the next moment, he found himself pinned to the same rock Sephiroth had been sitting upon, wing trapped underneath him, his own blade pressed against his neck. The silver-haired man had discarded his sword and took Cloud's in the flurry of movement. If Sephiroth was thrown off by its weight distribution or its size, so different from his own weapon, it was well-hidden behind that ever-present smirk.

"I win again."

He gave a mock sigh and pulled the sword away, dropping it to the ground beside them. Cloud took this brief opportunity and aimed a punch at the other man's head, hoping to throw Sephiroth off-balance so he could escape. His bonded only caught his fist with a deft movement, then the other with his free hand as Cloud tried to strike the man again, then proceeded to pin both of the blonde's arms above his head.

"And again."

"I'll kill you," Cloud snarled.

"Don't you ever get tired of saying that?"

A glare.

Sephiroth chuckled. It was something Cloud had never heard before, knowing only the mocking laughter the other had used before. It was devoid of any inflection, but rather than hearing it, Cloud _felt_ the amusement in the laugh. It was... well, for lack of a better word, _weird_.

"You silly, silly boy. Haven't you figured it out yet? After so many opportunities to kill you, don't you think I would have done it by now?"

Cloud remained silent. Of course he had wondered. But he could come up with no answer other than that the man had always given him: life would be boring.

Sephiroth extended his wing and, emerald green eyes focused on Cloud's ice blue, brought it down to lay across the blonde's, soft feathers meeting leather-like skin. Cloud gave an involuntary gasp at the contact, not only from the mere physical touch, but also from the power that surged through his body at that moment, making him feel like he was just struck by lightning. He was not the only one who reacted, he noted despite the shock, ears catching the hitch in Sephiroth's breathing.

Then the silver-haired man leaned closer, so that his breath ghosted over Cloud's cheek. Cloud felt his bonded's heartbeat, a rapid staccato that matched his own, slowing down bit by bit as their bodies grew accustomed to the power that flowed between them.

"Do you see?" Sephiroth purred into his ear, and he could not hold back a shiver, as though the other man's voice reverberated throughout his body. "I need you. As _you_ need _me_. No matter how much you hate this, hate _me_, we are connected. You'll kill me, you say? The bond we share will not let you, as it does not let me." A brief pause before he added, "If I wanted to kill you in the first place, of course."

And there was the answer to one mystery, at least, even if that last statement confused Cloud somewhat. But that the bond would not let them destroy each other? Was it some sort of self-preservation instinct and, if so, would that not require a consciousness? And how did Sephiroth know? Had he tried to kill Cloud? How many times? But he had said that he had not wanted to kill the blonde. At least, that was how he had chosen his words, Cloud reminded himself. Just because Sephiroth did not want to kill him, it did not mean that he tried to kill him because he wanted to, but because he had formed some sort of theory about the nature of their bond and wanted to experiment. It was, after all, the only way they could learn about the bond; maybe others had knowledge of its existence, but none knew of its nature.

Cloud's own thoughts made him angry again, pulling him out of the last traces of his earlier shock and back into focus. Odd though the reasoning was, it worked, and it was something he had come to expect from his bonded. Cloud was not angry for the usual reasons, but for the one that surfaced only once in a while. Sephiroth was, first and foremost, a soldier, bred and trained for that line of work. The usage of the abilities and strength that the connection and the wing gave him was not out of arrogance, nor for the petty reason that it was because he _could_ use them; it gave him an advantage, an edge, and _that_, his training had taught him, was why he should use it. Cloud had been through the same training, knew the reasoning that came with it, and so knew that this was some, if not all, of what the other man thought. Following that logic, _he_ was at a disadvantage, because he did not know as much. He had experimented, of course, but with caution and general dislike of tapping into the power because of all that it represented, and for everything he learned, his bonded was still several steps ahead of him and still going, still investigating, still testing. For everything he knew, the other would still know more.

But the bond, itself... He knew he could not get rid of it, for all he tried. He had come to accept it, that it was a part of him. Dislike it though he did, it was advantageous to have the power; he did not forget that he would not be here had it not been for this 'gift.' It did not seem to have restrictions or boundaries until now. True, he would not have killed Sephiroth, not yet, not when the other man was quite possibly the only living person with the knowledge of what he sought. However, he had every intention of doing away with the one-winged 'angel' -- he gave a derisive, mental snort at that -- once he had gotten that knowledge, for reasons past and present. But now he learned that he could do no such thing, not while the bond was present, which it would be, in essence, interminably. Not for lack of skill or ability, not even for the lack of knowledge of how to manipulate his power, but for the sole reason that the bond _would not let him._ It was a hard concept to grasp, let alone believe, that something without thought or purpose of its own, would prevent him from doing anything.

The weight of Sephiroth's body lifted away from him all of a sudden, and the grip on his wrists was released. Cloud disliked being surprised and here it happened several times in less than an hour. But he levered himself up, eyes on his companion as he reached for his sword. He waited for a move that did not come. Sephiroth merely took a few steps back, meeting the blonde's gaze without blinking.

He did not take his sword.

"Would you like to try, Cloud?" The smirk returned. "Killing me?"

Cloud stood, wary of his opponent, in case this another sort of trick. He did not lift his sword in a ready stance, but he was prepared nonetheless, gripping the hilt tightly. However, the other did not move, green eyes still trained on him, also watching, waiting. The challenge still stood, still hung in the air between them. It was no mockery, only a question.

"There's no catch," Sephiroth broke the silence, answering the question that ran through the blonde's mind at that very moment. "No tricks. Come on, I know you want to try."

"Bastard. Of course I do," Cloud admitted, trying to keep the anger out of his voice. "But we both know I won't. I still need you."

Those last four words came out more easily than he would have expected. However, if he wanted to deny it, he knew he would not. He _could_ not. Because it was true. And if there was any trait he shared with his bond-partner besides the obvious -- loath though he was to admit anything of the sort -- it was that he did not bother with lies.

"So you do." Musing. "So you do. But _I_ know you won't be able to kill me. What's the harm in trying?"

Perhaps Cloud would have given in to temptation by now, had he not had his doubts about the man's claims. Perhaps this was how the bond manifested its restriction on his actions, stopping him at the merest thought. Perhaps... --No. He definitely wanted to go through with it. Just not now.

"All right. If you're done, then, I suppose I shall take my leave now."

"What is it with you? Do you have some sort of death wish?" The question just came out, but he did not want to take it back.

The smile Sephiroth gave him may have been charming had it been anyone else. "What's the matter? Afraid I'll go before I give you what you want? I'm not coward enough to kill myself"--he ticked the points off on his fingers--"there may not be anyone who exists who can kill me but you, and you are unable to. Any injuries you may deal will heal before infection has time to set in. If I die, it will probably of old age." The barest pause. "Or boredom."

Cloud took a step forward without thinking. His bonded remained in his spot, despite his earlier words that he was going to leave. Waiting, Cloud knew, for his move, whatever that may be.

Pity, he thought idly, that even he did know that.

He took another step. And another. Until he closed the distance between himself and the silver-haired man. Sephiroth gazed at him, impassive, ever patient. Even when Cloud raised his sword and pressed it against that pale neck, nearly enough to draw blood.

Nearly enough and that was it.

For all he willed his muscles to move, to press the blade into soft skin, or to draw it across in one swift slice, he could not. His arm refused to budge. At least, in any sort of movement that would cause any harm, for when he tried to draw back, his arm obeyed him. He barely felt when gloved fingers covered his and lowered his arm so the sword was back at his side.

"There, now, wasn't that easy?"

"This means..."

"You can fight to your heart's content," Sephiroth finished for him. "And to my amusement."

Folding his wing so it was tucked against his back again, the man stepped away from him and went to retrieve his own sword. The clearing was silent now, all the energy released during their brief battle -- if battle it could be called -- having driven away the wildlife for hundreds of yards. The only sounds that reached Cloud's ears now were his own breathing and his bonded's footsteps.

"I will not hold back next time, Cloud," came the quiet statement after a few moments of that silence. "And I expect you to be stronger. Maybe you should practice against that kid, until it's not so difficult for you to beat him."

He whirled around at the offhand comment, but Sephiroth was already walking away. Odd that his bonded did not take flight, he thought, until he remembered that the other used his wing and power for that only sometimes.

"You know why I did that," he argued, futile though it was to do so with Sephiroth's back turned to him. "You know I couldn't--"

"I know." And for the second time in one day, Cloud heard that laugh, the one that carried neither mockery nor malice. "Take a joke once in a while."

Sephiroth disappeared into the trees, calling back behind him, "And remember to count to a hundred before looking for me."


End file.
